The title says it all. It’s a longer way to allude to the phrase “between a rock and a hard place”. But those a very vague places. Rocks come in all sizes and a hard place could be anything. I needed something more specific — and biblical — to help me define where I feel I’ve been the past few months.
Let me explain.
The phrase “multiple sorrows” comes from Psalm 16:4a,
The sorrows of those who run after another god shall multiply; (ESV)
Running after other gods is exactly where I’ve been lately. I’m Jonah right after God told him to go to Nineveh. I’m the people Jeremiah is preaching too who have forsaken their God and drawn cisterns that cannot hold water. I’m the Israelites who, as Moses is up on the mountain receiving the commandments of God, decide to make a golden calf that is here and now, instead of then and coming. None of those stories ended well. Big fishes, national captivity, corporate death. Multiple sorrows.
And yet, on the other side of conundrum is the very real Valley of the Shadow of Death, from Psalm 23:4,
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me. (ESV)
The rest of verse is beautiful. David, the psalmist, says that even though he is being led into this horrid and terrifying valley, that he doesn’t fear. Not because the Valley isn’t worthy of his or anyone’s fear, but because He knows His God is with Him. He is comforted by the very presence of His God with him.
So what’s my problem? Unlike David, I don’t look at how big my God is; instead I look at how scary this Valley is. I see its cobwebs, I see the scary eyes staring back at me, I see the creatures baring their razor-sharp teeth in my direction, waiting to chew me alive. I see these images, then I stare back up at God. Not to see His all-sufficiency, not to marvel at His ability to protect me regardless of the threat, not to lean heavily on all His numerous promises to never leave me nor forsake me. No, I look up at God to ask Him, “Why?” I look up at God to question Him, not trust Him; to argue with Him, not believe in Him and His Word. I know He told me His ways are not my ways, and that His thoughts aren’t my thoughts. I understand that His knowledge is not only higher but eternal. I (say I) believe that He truly loves me and only gives good gifts. And yet, here I stand at the entrance to this Valley, looking, searching, frantically trying to find how this could be a good gift.
But I don’t see it. And so, in my own knowledge, in my own way that seems right to me that ultimately leads to death, I run. I run hard. But where and what do I run to? Running towards multiple sorrows sounds really horrible. But running through a Valley known for being the shadow of Death doesn’t sound too appealing either. So here I am. Stuck.
Stuck between the promises of the Almighty and the promises of the world. Stuck between wondering which pain is really worth it. Stuck at wanting to not move at all, hoping I can stay this way till eternity. Stuck between crippling anxiety and oppressive depression. Stuck between grace and condemnation. Stuck between truth and lies.
Either way, I’m stuck. I would love to end this with some really good biblical truth. And I could do that. I could show you that Jesus promised we would have trouble in this world but that we should take heart because He overcame the world (John 16:33). I could show you that Paul told us that all things work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose (Rom. 8:28). I could point out that God was with David even in the Valley, as He was with the Israelites in the wilderness, as He would also be with Jonah on his way to Nineveh. I could point out that all of God’s promises are yes though Christ Jesus (2 Cor. 1:20). All of these points are true. All these points are valid. All these points are biblical and scriptural. And yet, I’m still stuck.
Voluntarily stuck, I’m sure. I know God’s grace reaches this deep. If it didn’t, His grace wouldn’t be that impressive. And that’s my one and only hope right now. Not a hope like a big, blinding light that overpowers everything dark. No, this hope is more like a little night-light in a big room. But even a small light is seen in the darkness. And even mustard seed faith can move mountains. So, maybe even the smallest of grace can help me become unstuck. And He’s known for giving greater grace. I could use some greater grace right now.
I wrote this for the stuck. I wrote this for those who try to run to the world and to God, sometimes in the same day. I wrote this for those who feel internally stretched beyond their max point. I wrote this for you. Because if we are stuck, at least we aren’t alone.